Merry Christmas, Harry
by MirandNack
Summary: With Voldemort coming to power and the trio hunting horcruxes, it just doesn't seem like Christmas to Harry. However, the Christmas spirit isn't easily diminished. Set during the Deathly Hallows.


It was snowing. The idea of it was so ridiculous to Harry Potter that he couldn't help but scoff out loud, a little puff of vapor wisping in front of him. The rock he was sitting on was unbearably cold, but he didn't mind too much.

"Another white Christmas," Harry muttered to himself. However, instead of the joy that usually came with the snow and holiday, he felt only sadness. He was sitting in some vast forest Hermione had led him and Ron to in their search for Voldemort's horcruxes, alone as the other two slept. It was only a few hours until Christmas officially arrived, and all he could think of was his family back home – Molly and Arthur, the twins, and Ginny. Merlin, how he missed Ginny. He knew Hermione had gotten him a Christmas present somehow, but he had nothing to give her in return. The thought upset him a great deal.

He stood up and stamped his feet to try and get some feeling back into them. "Yeah," he whispered, "What a _merry_ Christmas."

He began to walk along their boundaries, keeping their modest tent in sight as he went. His shoulders felt heavier than they usually did, for it was nights like this when he had no choice but to dwell on his burden. He knew he would win, that they would conquer Voldemort, but… what if they didn't?

As busy with his thoughts as he was, Harry didn't notice a shadow fall across the sky, nor did he notice the soft crunch of heavy boots walking through the snow. However, when the figure was several paces behind him, Harry came out of his thoughts and whirled, his wand at the ready.

It was a large man, tall and weighty, and he didn't stop his stride as Harry shouted, "Who's there? Stop where you are!"

It was dark, but not unbearably so. Harry lit his wand with a "_Lumos_", and fell back into the snow when he saw the man before him.

"All right there, Harry?" the man asked with a smile that made his round cheeks plumper.

Harry scrambled back up and again pointed his wand, though he was less guarded this time. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"You don't know?" the man said with a raised eyebrow.

"No! Well, I mean, I think I do, but –"

"But what?"

"You're not real. Er, that is, you can't be real," Harry stammered, looking at the great man with curious suspicion.

The man let out a deep, lingering laugh, "Is that so?"

"If you don't mind," Harry snapped, raising his wand a couple of inches, "It's been a crazy couple of months. Excuse me if I don't believe it's really you."

Sitting down in the snow and leaning back on his hands the man said, "It has been quite the year, hasn't it?"

Harry remained standing. He certainly looked like him, but it couldn't be, could it?

"Sit, Harry, sit. Let's talk." Something in the man's warm brown eyes made Harry at ease, so he sat cross-legged across from him, feeling warmer and more comfortable than before.

"Sir, are you…" Harry paused, feeling ridiculous. There were so many names, which one did he prefer? "Are you Father Christmas?"

The man looked at Harry and grinned. "What gave me away? My scarlet robe with white trim? My beard? Or perhaps it was the fact that I came an hour before Christmas?"

Harry shrugged, "So, you are him, then?"

"I am, but I'm not fond of the name 'Father Christmas', at least, today I'm not."

"Oh," Harry said, a little taken aback. "I don't mean to sound rude, but I've been told you're not real."

Father Christmas – or whatever he wanted to be called – laughed. "You'd be surprised how often I get that from muggles and muggleborns."

"I'm not –" Harry started, but the man interrupted him.

"I'm assuming your aunt and uncle were the ones who told you I'm just a silly story?"

Harry felt slightly ashamed, though he couldn't quite identify why. "Sorry," he apologized.

He waved a gloved hand and said, "It's not your fault, Harry."

Harry studied the man in front him. Most pictures had him wrong. He wasn't thin and earthly like he'd seen in some stores, yet he wasn't a round ball of a man as he often saw as well. He was overweight, but not obese like Uncle Vernon or Dudley. Plump would be the best word for him, Harry decided, and his beard was wiry and fell to the middle of his stomach. This was unbelievable.

"How can you be real?" Harry blurted, "How can you deliver presents to every single child in one night, and how come I've never gotten anything from you?"

"I think I like Nicholas tonight," Nicholas mused. Then he pulled out a wand, holding out, and turned his attention back to Harry, who shot his wand back up at the sight of Nicholas'.

"I'm a wizard, Harry. I apparate to all the homes and deliver the presents that way. Likewise, I don't deliver to Hogwarts because there are too many security measures in place for me to get through." Nicholas paused and frowned. "I've given you presents, one every year until you were eleven."

Harry shook his head. As much as he liked presents, he didn't care that he hadn't gotten any. He was just curious as to why. "I got my first real present at Hogwarts," Harry told him.

Nicholas looked upset and muttered, "I reckon your aunt and uncle took them away. They are on the naughty list, you know. All three of them."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. Nicholas stood up and Harry followed suit. Stepping forward, he clapped a large hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know you've been down a rough path, and I know it's only going to get worse before it gets better. Just remember that you're never alone," he told Harry sincerely.

"I know," Harry said with a nod.

Nicholas removed his hand and dug around in his robes pulling out three small packages wrapped in gold and holly. "Cheer up, Harry. Just for today. You'll have plenty of other days to be glum and worried." He handed Harry the parcels, and Harry saw that each one was labeled in neat, curved writing: _To: Ron_, _To Hermione_, _To: Harry_.

"Are you leaving now?" Harry asked, wanting him to stay with him until one of the other two woke up.

Nicholas nodded. "I have to get the presents out there. Merry Christmas, Harry." And with that, he was gone. Harry was instantly colder, as if Nicholas' heart had warmed the clearing. He started to trudge back towards the tent, his heart lighter than had been in a year. He was the chosen one, yes, but what good did it do to worry and stress while they weren't going anywhere at the moment? He smiled, his chapped lips cracking in protest.

Today was Christmas. It was snowing, he had is two best friends with him, he had presents packed under his arms, and he was going to be merry today.


End file.
